Ten Years I never saw Coming

It all really began one score and two years ago.

In 2003, I was inspired on the road by a CD featuring a TV dentist. On the way to Santa Barbara and its channel that had two Michelin stars for tasty krill if you were a blue whale, I heard the word “Orthodontics” with some inspired interest for the first time…as a potential provider, not a patient.

As a USC dental student, I did what I could to just get the Ortho requirements out of the way. Bending wires seemed about as tedious as watching my imaginary sister getting her nails done. My appreciation for the difference Orthodontics might make happened shortly after a tooth nazi instructor briefly interrupted his search for my centric relation position to opine that my occlusion had gifted me with a trainwreck smile. I reacted to Dr. Marathon Man’s remark under my breath with “just like your dexterity and your personality.” And I wonder why, after all this time (even as recently as last Thursday night), my dreams can randomly show up as cardinal and gold nightmares.

Maybe two years into my own practice, an orthodontist who soon became a best friend gifted me with a keyboard smile and the chance to communicate without my hand becoming a filter and its own sound barrier. Patients without canine auditory skills began hearing what I had to say. Orthodontic care did wonders for my confidence, my smile, and my life.

Clear aligners, and Invisalign? I wondered if Doc Holliday felt the same buzz I was getting by way of radio waves when he seated his first inlay or pulled his nickel-plated .41 caliber Colt Thunderer to successfully secure third party reimbursement? Thoughts of possibility were ringing in my ears and found a pathway to my prefrontal cortex and somehow got through the ropes to my forever teenage amygdala. I became certified to provide Invisalign while breaching blue whales were still dancing in my mind’s eye.

For a dozen years, I walked the Invisalign continuing education land in search of a system. I continued moving teeth around in an itsy-bitsy fashion. I appreciated not having to resort to dreaded “instant orthodontics” (which could be something like an instant partial tooth beheading compared to an enamel trim and a shampoo) to achieve cosmetic results that no longer needed the Pope’s blessing as a legit witnessed miracle.

One evening, an interesting funny guy from Long Island named Dr. David Galler did a Pasadena drive-by chicken dinner/Invisalign lecture at the Doubletree, showed a few photos of a shark swimming just outside of his front porch, and shared some clinical tips…that worked like a charm.

I attended two Invisalign Summits, biennial North America meetings for general dentists providing Invisalign care. I saw amazing cases accomplished by GPs who looked mostly normal. I thought, why not me? I also performed my first karaoke after three martinis while in front of an orchestra and back-up singers. And I totally know the Friends in Low Places lyrics to this day. Anything was possible.

We had a great rep named Allen for several years. After Allen, we had no one for 2-3 years, then a rep new to Invisalign for a year…and then the beautiful Roslyn…for two weeks. But at some point, during those two weeks, Roslyn pulled me aside to share that she’d nominated me for a new Invisalign course. And just before I realized I was obviously too much for Roslyn to handle, I asked for the instructor’s name; she said Galler. Two days with Doc Galler would be like a learning weekend with Chris Rock and only 10% F-bombs.

What followed within days was news that I was an Invisalign Summit Shootout finalist. I’d become far more adventurous accepting Invisalign cases and was thrilled with the results of one of them. First case submitted, and I’m a finalist, who knew?

Dr. David Galler was one of a kind. For one thing, he taught with humor (a concept totally absent during my four looong years of dental school); he also telephoned each student before the course began. And on that call, Galler shared he knew I was a shootout finalist; even before my arrival at the Universal Sheraton for the course, he pledged his support. How could you not like this guy? David even printed out T-shirts supporting my Shootout candidacy.

After about 15 minutes of the most fun I’d ever had in Dentistry, presenting my case in front of a thousand or so colleagues and team members on stage, in front of a huge screen, with walk-on music (Lose Yourself) and a first slide of the USC Football Trojans emerging out of the tunnel of the LA Memorial Coliseum, I dropped the mic, with my lovely patient on-screen beautifully singing “Smile” acapella. When I finished, Doc Galler met me halfway down the steps, gave me a hug, and whispered, “If you don’t win, this is fixed.” During four years of dental school, I’d had only one instructor take a personal interest in my growth.

Dr. Galler’s course, Reingage, lived up to its billing of “The Course that Changed Everything,” and then some.

For me, next week will make ten years that David Galler and his group, the American Academy of Clear Aligners (AACA), have meant so much more than my being part of a collection of outstanding colleagues. Somehow, probably during a restroom break, I became president of Los Aligners (our original LA group). I’ve been a Board member since Day One. I’ve traveled to Costa Rica, the Bahamas, Jamaica, New Orleans, DC, and countless other locations in the company of true friends who’re committed to learning and growing. I’ve had the opportunity to be creative with my writing for the Journal and sharing quotes and video commentaries daily for going on four years.

When I sold my dental practice, Temple City Dental Care, after 46-years of ownership, the new owner came from my Los Aligners Reingage group. Dr. Kyle Low and I were friends for two years before I asked him if he was interested in becoming a buyer.

I understand next week we will mark our final Las Vegas meeting at Wynn Las Vegas. And the end of 2025 might signal the end of my active participation in the AACA. The conference will also celebrate the life of a dear friend, colleague, husband, and father, who passed away in his prime at age 42. Dr. Galler was on the scene at the hospital while Amir was receiving emergency care, he virtually delivered a heartfelt eulogy at the funeral and challenged us to do something that scared us or to choose a path we’d “talked but not walked” and commit to it every day for 75-days. I chose writing a column; this one is #75.

And the older I get, the fewer excuses I need to shed a tear. And while my Uncle Bill used to wipe his eyes when a U.S. figure skater created an unexpected event, finishing a triple axel with a two-bun landing, I’m not quite there yet.

But the reality of me no longer being part of a magical ten-year ride I never saw coming, will undoubtedly be emotional…as will be the 75 edited columns co-authored by Amir and Doc David Galler, that will likely produce a tear, a smile, and some sweet lasting memories.